Seek Me
by StormyNiight
Summary: Pitch has been defeated, or has he? Darkness and evil spreads in more than one way, and finds Grace, who used to live a perfectly normal life with her family. Jack Frost has comforted Grace from the very first moment she experienced a true fear, but will he always be there? Not the best at summaries, but I hope you enjoy.


Hello there.~

Glad you could make it.

I would absolutely love feedback, and such.

Rise of the Guardian Characters and references © Their rightful owners. (DreamWorks I believe?)

…

_ Years ago an intense war was fought. The good and bad both clashed, but like all stories the good won. Or did they?_

With a loud 'crack!' the lightning raced across the darkening sky. It's light piercing the black effortlessly. The bolts created bright patterns as they struck the Earth, and everything around them. Fear may have coursed through most as the storm devoured everything in rain, but not all of them.

Just inside a window, on the second floor of a four story high apartment building, was the second daughter of a very poor man. At just ten years old, she was still almost the shortest out of four children. Three playful, rowdy, loud boys that pestered her when she wouldn't play with them because she preferred the safety of the indoors. She wasn't afraid of what she could see, but of what she couldn't. Her best, and only, friend Sophie told her stories of her old town, and how her older brother, Jamie, fought giant monsters, and a dark, tall, man.

Of the four children, she was one of two that actually still believed. The other being the youngest child at the age of five. Her father used to be a typically happy man. Like the father's from the children movies that carry their kids upon each shoulder, and have another one wrapped around one of their legs.

That all changed when her mother passed away. It was certainly _not _like the movies at all. Her mother was family oriented. So much that she wanted to have children far into her forties at the least. In the large house they used to live in, there would always be a brand new crib, or toy, or some sort of baby thing being delivered to the front door. There was always music playing somewhere, and on more than one occasion, it came from different rooms causing the music to clash into a whole new song.

The little girl in the window was there in the cold, dark, room when the doctors told her and her older brother, Hunter, were told the news of their mother's, and what would have been a little sister's, passing. Hunter, twelve at the time, and the oldest child, held his younger sister as she cried for days on end.

Things went downhill from there. Their father darkened, and started drinking. Which caused several people to question whether or not he should have had custody of them. He lost his job within a year, and not long after, they lost the house. The family of four moved into an old apartment, and the father took late night shifts just to get away from the children. They reminded him too much of his wife.

Hunter took responsibility. He would tuck everybody in at night, cook meals, and make sure everybody was loved. Hunter, now thirteen, would fake his age so that he would get part time jobs on the weekends when his dad went out drinking with his 'work buddies' who all seemed to like going in his room at night and leaving in the morning with what little cash he had.

Hunter would shave his sandy blonde hair short so he would look more mature and get the jobs. Outside of the house, he would hide his smile, and replace it with a more serious expression.

I've been watching the family for a while. Hidden amongst the rooftops of unsuspecting houses. I was there to comfort each of them while Hunter would be stuck in traffic, or doing a late night shift. I, Jack Frost, have been there ever since the day they were first burdened by their father's lack of support, and care.

It was me who comforted the girl in the window, Grace as she is called. She lay their, crying in her bed the night of the incident. Her whimpers could be heard all around the house, along with the other children. That is when I first heard her speak. The two words that slipped through her slightly parted lips.

"Hold me."

I know it was for nobody in particular, she had no clue I was sitting on the floor of her room. She didn't believe in me yet, as most kids did. Therefor, I was invisible. On occasion, people see me; it's hard to tell though since I'm apparently a metaphor to most people.

I pushed myself off the ground and stood over here bed. The covers were bunched around her and it was hard to tell where she actually lay, but gently, I touched her. Placing the palm of my hand over where I assumed the small of her back was under the blankets.

The loudest of her whimpers ceased, and slowly, her freckled face relaxed. After a few minutes her body uncurled and relaxed too. The coldness of my touch was comforting enough for her to relax in her sleep, and so I never went back. Not for a good while at least.


End file.
